


Explorative

by KryptekDreamer



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: 18+, Back on my star wars crunch, Canon, Eventual Smut, F/M, FWB, Fingerfucking, Fluff and Smut, Forced Orgasm, Just realized the Jedi Order Basically has a hit it and quit it rule, M4F, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, POV Female Character, Possessive Anakin Skywalker, Prequels have a special place in my soul, Slow Burn, Sneaking Around, TikTok, Vaginal Fingering, espescially if he learns what's going on behind his back, ish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:00:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28607133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KryptekDreamer/pseuds/KryptekDreamer
Summary: In which the reader accidentally(?) seduces the chosen one.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker/Reader, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Reader, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 1
Kudos: 70





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi lovelies! This is gonna skew so far from the cannon it's not even funny. I'm just indulging in my good ole Anakin simp days. Bear with me because I have no idea where this is going.

The smell of sweat, metal, and toxic spirits permeates the air. You can’t stand how dark it is. How every way you turn, a body bumps up against you, grinding and grabbing for you. 

“You need to relax.” Anakin’s voice rumbles right next to your ear, cutting through the Heavy Isotope booming from the bar’s speakers, and you’re instantly aware of just how close he is. His hands gently grasping your waist, the silk tunic you’re wearing riding high, just above your navel, and his calloused fingers brushing the skin every time you sway your hips just right. 

You turn your head and look up at him, bristling at the way that stupid smirk makes you internally clench. “Easy for you to say.” You scoff, hoping the heavy bassline of the music hides the breathy way your voice comes out. “You’ve gotta better view than I do. I can barely see! How the hell am I supposed to find the kriffin asset if all I can see is that Rhodian trying to stuff their tongue down someone else’s throat?” 

You huff and spin, placing your hands on Anakin’s chest, tracking your eyes behind him, looking for the tell-tell shine of the rogue protocol droid you were supposed to be tracking down. You were definitely not focusing on the way Anakin’s hands slipped a bit higher under your tunic, resting on the small of your back as he scanned the other side of the room, his voice vibrating in his chest, underneath your palm. 

“The view is pretty nice from where I’m standing.” You punch him for good measure, knowing he’s not talking about the crowd grinding inside this seedy cantina. Thank the stars the cantina is only lit by three strobing lights. Otherwise, he’d be able to see the way you bit your lip just now. 

You peek up at him, his eyes actually scanning the room now, and smile softly. His hair, having begun to fall to his shoulders at some point in the last cycle, is pulled into a low ponytail leaving his neck on full display. You watch the way he swallows, and his adam’s apple bobs making you bite your lip again. Maker, what the hell are they pumping through these vents? 

“You’re staring.” You flush and look back over his shoulder, trying your hardest to look like you’re actually focused on this very important mission to track down a lost droid. Yes, the only thing you’re determined to find is Bail’s stupid protocol droid. You definitely weren’t trying to figure out what Anakin’s hands would feel like if they dropped just a few inches lower.

“In your dreams pretty boy.” You snark back, glancing back up at him and choking a bit when you find his eyes on you. Stupid. Stupid was how you felt when he looked at you. All sensible thoughts fly straight out of your head when he looks at you. When did that start? When did you start positively fiending for your friend, your childhood sparring partner? Was it when you started noticing the lingering looks between him and Senator Amidala? Or was it when you had that freakishly vivid dream where he was doing a million things, you didn’t even know existed, to your body? 

You punch him good-naturedly and spin again, trying not to shiver when his hands settle on your waist again. One thing was for sure. This mission was ridiculous. 3PO could do this on his own- actually, that’s not true. He’d get knocked around, be absolutely scandalized by the number of people practically having clothed sex in front of him, and get lost trying to find his way back out of the slum bar.

The point is, this is not Jedi Knight level work. It was something you’d gotten used to doing as a padawan. The simple tasks and missions to test your skills in the real world. Your ability to focus amid chaos and blah, blah, blah. So when you’d gotten the message from Anakin on your holopad at kriffin’ 2 in the morning, why hadn’t you turned it down? You could have ignored it, it wouldn’t have been a problem. The droid had been lost for weeks now and someone had mentioned they’d seen a far too shiny, and far too expensive protocol droid working the night shift at a slum bar in District G-17. It’d probably wandered off on an errand, gotten lost, then gotten jumped, and reprogrammed for quick cash. It happened often on the lower levels.

It really wasn’t even Jedi work. Bail had already replaced the droid seeing as it really had been just his errand droid. There was nothing important knocking around in that shiny tin can’s head. CSF could take care of the people who’d “stolen” it and sold it on the black market. It really wasn’t something you had to do. And it most definitely wasn’t something you had to do with another person. 

And yet you’d hopped right out of bed, gotten dressed, and been down to Anakin’s speeder within minutes. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he’d joked it was super top-secret undercover Jedi stuff. Something you used to stay up giggling about with him as younglings sneaking around the temple. Maybe it was the way he looked when you’d hopped into his speeder. The dark tunic he usually wore nowhere to be found, replaced with something so civilian you’d laughed when you first noticed it. His hair tied back, a tight black top and slacks that hung low on his hips as if they were just there to tease you. Which they weren’t. You know that. It’s just his sad excuse of a disguise. His sad, infuriatingly attractive disguise.

“....it up. Figured you needed a break from bouncing around in that empty head of yours.” You blink and tilt your head back to give him a perplexed look. He chuckles and shakes his head before dropping his chin onto your shoulder, his breath ghosting over your pulse point and making you wish you the rest of the patrons would just disappear.

“You didn’t hear a thing I said.” He mutters, his hips pressing against yours, your ass way too close to...him. You stiffen when he brushes his lips across your neck, his left hand sliding around to your front and trailing slowly up your belly. 

“Anakin- what are you doing?” You stutter. The music has switched to soft B’ssa nuuvu of all things and you know he can hear the way your breath catches on his name. His hand stills just above your navel, but he doesn’t remove it. Just lets his fingers trace small circles on your skin making your belly flutter and your thighs clench involuntarily. 

“You know what I’m doing.” He murmurs and your breath hitches again as his hand continues to slide upwards. He’s going agonizingly slow. As if he’s waiting for you to tell him to stop. Remind him that this is wrong. Remind him that you’re on a mission. 

“Wait..did you say you made this up?” You finally register what he was saying when you zoned out and you bristle in frustration. Of course, he did. You turn your head and glare at him, hoping you don’t look as flustered as you feel. You’re very pissed right now. Definitely. So pissed he made this admittedly ridiculous mission up to...what? Get you alone? Away from your peer’s prying eyes? No, that was ridiculous in and of itself. Unless…

He hasn’t responded. He’s just looking down at you with those stormy eyes, and his...Karrabast...his lip caught between his teeth. 

“Why?” You ask, your voice so small and soft that you’re not even sure he can hear you over the music. But the gentle quirk of his lips tells you otherwise. He turns you gently and the shiver that runs up your spine has nothing to do with the cool cybernetics making up his right hand. Your breath takes the liberty of getting stuck in your throat as you stare up at him. He’s so close, when did he get that close? And gods...he smells pretty damn good. Clean sweat, smokey and just...good. 

Your eyes drop from his. And he just as quickly taps his fingertip underneath your chin, prompting you to look up at him again. His right hand has started to slip slowly up your back, the metal dragging a cool line up your spine. You realize he’s dipping you just a bit, and then...swaying your hips? 

A snort bursts from you and you clamp your mouth shut, still snickering a bit. His brow furrows and he grins down at you, amused and more than a little perplexed. 

“What? You like dancing.” You realize now that his hips are swaying too. If you can call it that. He’s stiff with it. Sidestep, one-two. Imperceptible shoulder shimmy, very smooth Skywalker. You laugh again and the nerves that had begun to creep into your belly are melting into something warm and...nice. He’s the only one who knows you like to dance. Letting your emotions show in a way you’d grown to love as a youngling before it was hardwired into your brain that emotions bad, repression good. You didn’t doubt your teachers, your mentors, your family for one second when it came to using the gifts you’d been given, for good. But when it came to stifling things that made you undeniably you? You still struggled with that. And you know Anakin did. Sometimes it felt like he was the only one who really understood it.

When you’d met him, both of you young and bright-eyed and full of emotion, you’d known he was going to be your best friend. No matter how cliched that was. It was something undeniable. The bond you shared with him. That bond had stayed strong over the last decade or more, and now that you were older it had grown exponentially into something different. Something that raised your body temperature on chilly Coruscant nights. Something that made you clench when you watched Anakin spar with Ahsoka. Something that, when it was you sparring with him, made you want to pin him down and…

“I knew you were absentminded but..” His amused voice cuts through your heated thoughts. You blink up at him, and this time you don’t look away. His smirk falters and his brows pinch together. And the hand you hadn’t stopped noticing stilled on your back, nearly halfway up your blouse now. You wanted to kick him for stopping. 

“Why?” You asked again. A bit more urgency in your voice this time. The music had shifted to something mellow now. The night was going to be shifting to day soon, and the patrons had started slinking off with each other to do Maker knows what, or to sell certainly illegal stuff in the back alleys. But you weren’t moving. Instead, you took in a shuddering breath and stepped forward, your chest pressing gently against Anakin’s now. You felt something shift in the air, and a noticeably warm and gentle buzzing feeling took over your thoughts. It took you only a second to realize it was coming from Anakin. His eyes were darker, and there he went again, biting into that lip. 

“Why did you make up this stupid mission? And ask me to come with you?” He was watching you with a look you’d told yourself you’d imagined countless times before. You’d seen it when you’d come back from missions, bright-eyed and energized from fighting. Or when you and Obi-Wan did demonstrations for the younglings. Like he wanted nothing more than to drag you away and gobble you and your sparked energy up. Now you wonder if you really had imagined it.

You take in another shuddering breath and let your hands fall to his hands on your waist. Your palms slide down his arms, underneath the loose sleeves of his tunic, tracing scars you’ve been with him to get. Your fingers are feather-light as you trace them back down and move to the hem of his shirt. You look up at him now, and he hasn’t made a move to stop you yet. So your fingers slip underneath the fabric and trace over his warm skin. A quiet gasp slips past your lips as you practically melt right there. _Ferrick, get a hold of yourself. It’s just skin._ You tell yourself. _Yeah, and he hasn’t stopped you._

“Did...did you want to get me alone?” You whisper, tilting your head and flushing when you see how intense his gaze is. And just how closely he’s leaning towards you, looking drunk from just the slightest touch. He tilts his head down and you lick your lips involuntarily, leaning up towards him.

“You know I did.” You shiver softly at the sound of his strained growl of a voice. His lips are so close you can taste the sweet mint on his breath. You want to taste it on his tongue. 

“Then come and taste me.” You nearly choke on the whine that slips out of your mouth. What the hell are they pumping through these pipes, you wonder again. Is it your Force-sensitivity? The fact that you can feel just how much he wants you, that it amplifies your own desires? You don’t even care at this point. All you know is that he tastes as good as he smells.

And that this is only going to end badly.


	2. 2

Dead. You are so dead. You’d gladly take Obi-Wan’s saber and run yourself through with it yourself. Save him the trouble and gore. You were so dead because you just woke up. It’s mid-day from what you can tell from the light slipping through the window and the cleaning droids squeaking up and down on schedule, washing the glass like it wasn’t spotless. That and Anakin is spread out about three inches behind you. In your bed. With his arms wrapped around your very scantily clad waist. You don’t know whether to pass out from the shock and fear that runs through your veins or thank the Maker you’ve at least got your panties on. 

No, that’s not what you should be hyper-fixating on. You should be trying to remember what happened last night to lead to this. And peel yourself away from his warmth and his heady scent filling up your senses, making you want to turn around and curl into him. You begin nervously biting your lip, literally raking through your brain trying to remember what happened after...after _you_ kissed him. After you let your body cling to his in the middle of that dimly lit cantina and let him work his tongue on yours while the rest of the galaxy fell away. And then...what? Had you done the unthinkable? Slept with him? No..that didn’t sound right. So what? Had you just...kissed and fallen back into your bed with him?

“You’re going to start looking like Obi-Wan if you keep scrunching your face up like that.” Anakin’s sleep laden voice rumbled right by your ear and you nearly jumped out of his arms and your own skin. His chuckle only made you bristle more. Before you can even speak, his hands grip your hips and turn you over to face him. You flush as you come face to face with his...bare chest. You rip your eyes away from his toned pectorals as if the sight of them burns your retinas. His sleepy eyes boring into yours isn’t much of a downgrade. And that stupid smirk..

“What the hell are we doing?” You half-yell half-whisper. He laughs again and drops his head down to press a kiss to your neck. You shiver and force yourself to keep that moan in your throat. 

“Nothing, according to you last night.” You furrow your brow. 

“So we didn’t…” You let your sentence trail off. Partly because you can’t bring yourself to say it out loud and partly because his tongue running across your pulse point is making you forget how to speak. 

“No, we didn’t fuck.” He sighs, pulling his head back to give you a sweet smile. It’s such a stark contrast to the words that came out of his mouth and that somehow makes you blush even harder. You’re going to spontaneously combust. Yeah, that’s how you’re going to die. Not at the hands of your scandalized Masters. 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” You mutter, looking away from him, staring at a scar running across his shoulder. A result of a tussle with a Fyrnock a few months back if you remembered correctly. His fingers trail up your throat and tip your chin back in his direction, forcing you to look back into his stark blue eyes. He raises his eyebrows at you. 

“It is.” You choke out a laugh at the sincerity in his voice and his gaze. Then you stop when you realize it’s not fake. He’s serious. You recoil from his touch even though that’s the last thing you want to do right now. 

“Anakin!” You splutter, sitting up abruptly. You glare at him and he just watches you, propped up on his elbows now, looking infuriatingly cocky and sexy. “You know...we can’t...how could you even say that? Kissing you alone was...was a mistake! You know that. We could get...you could lose your Knightship!” You don’t even know what you’re saying now because your mind is so busy racing trying to comprehend that he _wants_ you. 

“You’re not very convincing when you’re _that_ pissed and _that_ topless.” You freeze and your eyes drop to your chest. Your tits are on full display and the cool air venting through your small room has hardened your nipples. You cry out, scandalized and yank the blanket from around Anakin’s waist to cover yourself. He tosses his head back and laughs, his dark locks falling away from his face and brushing his shoulders. At least he’s still got his trousers on. 

“You seriously don’t remember?” He asks, sitting up and facing you, mirroring your sitting position on your knees. You shake your head frantically but as you do it all starts coming back. And quickly. 

_His hands are all over, and so are yours. You can’t get enough of how his skin feels underneath your fingertips; so warm and so inviting. You groan against his neck when one of his hands slips underneath your shirt and up your back while the other runs up your neck, tugging at your hair and pulling you closer as if he can’t get enough of your teeth scraping his pulse point and your lips fluttering over the mark you leave._

_You’d dragged him back to the speeder so quickly after you’d practically melted into that kiss. He’d just followed behind you with that dark smirk you’d only dreamt of being directed to you instead of Padme. The entire ride back you’d been vibrating with need. You wanted to feel his hands on you again. Have him kiss you again like he wanted to swallow you whole. Your_ _apartment was only a district over from the cantina, but it’d felt like hours before you’d made it back. And as soon as you’d gotten into the lift and the doors had closed, he was back on you. You weren’t even sure how you’d gotten back to the right apartment, he’d been so busy kissing you and touching you, you’d just let him lead._

_And now you were in your bed, straddling his waist, dotting him with hickeys and moaning against his skin. You could feel how much he wanted you, and you know he can feel how much you need him. Your pants had been discarded somewhere by the front door and you don’t even remember removing your top. But all that’s left between you and him are two admittedly sheer pieces of clothing and his trousers._ _And yet...you just kiss him. Dot his skin with sweet kisses and mark his neck and chest with hickey’s that only he’ll see. You hope._

_Sure you grind against him and the groans he lets out make you want to rip his pants away and slam down onto him. But you don’t. And yeah, you nearly beg him for it when he slips your bra off and leans up to take one of your nipples between his teeth and begins flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud. But you still don’t. You just kiss him. That’s it._

“Oh, Fierfek-” You grumble and pull your knees up so you can cover your face and still keep your modesty. Not that that matters now. You continue to hide behind your hands until you hear Anakin laughing, and feel his natural hand reach up to pull one of your hands away. You peek at him through one eye and frown at him. He’s grinning so boyishly, so full of humor that it momentarily reminds you of the look he used to get when you were both Padawans messing with your respective Masters with your new-found use of manipulating the air around their hair. It warms your heart momentarily. At least before you remember you’re supposed to be pissed at this man. But for what? What exactly do you have to be mad at him for? You kissed him. You dragged him back to your apartment. You’re the one who’d dreamt of doing what you did last night for years now. Though those dreams were often far lewder.

“I’m glad you find this so amusing.” You mutter, dropping your other hand and glaring at him, cheeks puffed out and everything. You look very menacing indeed. Though that quickly melts when he takes the hand he’s still holding and turns it over so that your palm is facing up. You watch him lean down to press a warm kiss against your skin and you fight the urge to sigh. He’s watching you the entire time as he kisses past your palm and up to your wrist. You never noticed just how erogenous of a zone your wrists were until he runs his tongue across the center and bites gently. You let out a small yelp but you don’t pull your hand away. 

“What’s so wrong about this?” He practically purrs as you watch him kiss up to your arm until he’s pulled you towards himself. He gives your arm a gentle yank, and it’s enough to lose your balance on your knees and you fall against his chest, only stopping yourself from hitting him headfirst by planting your hand on his chest. He raises an eyebrow at you and lets your hand drop from his grasp. Only to tip his finger under your chin again, making sure you don’t look away from his gaze again. You’re so close, and his breath is surprisingly still sweet at this time in the morning. You want to lean up to taste him again-

“Oh, stars-” You give a start. This time in the morning is- you steal a glance over his shoulder at the timepiece sitting on the little desk beside your bed. It’s almost noon. “Obi is going to kill us both.” You say again, jumping out of bed and out of Anakin’s grasp. You scramble to your closet and wrench drawers open and your robes and tunic off hangers so fast, you don’t catch the way Anakin’s face falls, his hand still up as if he’s still holding your gaze on him.

You do however catch the way he sighs dramatically and falls back on the bed. You glare at him over your shoulder and hate the way you instantly blush seeing him there. His right arm thrown across his eyes, his hand shining in the sunlight. The light peeks through the blinds and paints his exposed torso in a beautiful golden light. You pause your frantic rush momentarily to let your eyes trail over him. His trousers slung low on his hips, and those tempting lines dipping down below the waistband make you practically drool-

“I thought Obi-Wan was going to kill us?” His voice perks your ears and you snap your eyes back to his face where he’s moved his arm, watching you, watch him. You flush and toss one of your spare robes at him. 

“He’s going to kill you, that’s for sure.” You mutter as you practically yank your clothes on. You rush to the fresher and nearly pass out when you see the line of hickeys on full display. Even with your robe on you can still see at least three peeking out along your collarbone. 

What the frost-” You stick your head out of the small room and glare at Anakin. He’s sitting up now, arms on his legs and his feet planted on the floor. Though he still doesn’t look like he’s in a hurry to leave. He watches with clear amusement on his face as you stomp over to him and jab a finger at the marks on your skin. “I at least put mine where no one could see!” You hiss and you bristle even more when his response is to _laugh._ He catches your hand again, running his thumb across the new mark he’d left just a few minutes ago. He dips his head to trace his tongue along your skin again. You blush. Again. You swear you’re going to go up in flames with this volume of blushing. 

“You know we’re allowed to sleep together- right?” He asks, tugging at your arm again. You frown and he looks up at you. He continues to pull gently until you finally, and not exactly reluctantly, climb up onto the bed and straddle him again, your knees on either side of his thighs. He reaches up to tug your hair again and it sends a shiver through you. You let him tilt your head back and nearly melt right there when his hot tongue runs across your collarbone. 

“I-I know we don’t have to be celibate but-” You stutter and choke on your words when he adds another bite mark to your skin, just below your pulse point. “What? Afraid you’ll fall in love with me?” The man practically purrs against your throat and you groan. 

“In your dreams Skywalker.” You sigh, and before you know it he’s wrapped an arm around your back, spun you, and is pinning you to the bed. You barely have a chance to react before his mouth is on yours, one of his hands gathering both of your wrists and keeping them pressed into the bed above your head. His kisses are somehow both sweet and aggressive. Warm lips slant over yours perfectly and when his tongue runs across your lower lip, you don’t even hesitate to welcome him in. His tongue dances with yours, and you’re happy to follow the lead his kiss puts forth. As long as he doesn’t stop…

Almost as soon as that thought runs across your mind he’s pulling away, leaving you breathless and his chest heaving. He looks like he wants to eat you. You don’t think you’d mind.

“You are in my dreams.” He whispers and you nearly choke on air again. Really, this man is a hazard to your health. Choking on oxygen? Burning up because you’re blushing so much? Yeah, perfectly healthy way to react. 

“Wha...what?” You gasp out remembering how to breathe long enough to speak. 

“And I know...I know you dream about me too.” He murmurs, leaning down to kiss your neck again, only this time his free hand is running up your thigh. Somehow you’d pulled your tunic and robes on, and left your pants out of the equation. You shiver as his fingers trail over your skin, dipping down with the natural shape of your body, and ghosting along the edges of your panties. He strokes small circles along your hips and along the edges of the fabric without even looking as if he’s done this a million times before. As if he knows just what to do to make you positively soaked for him. “I know you dream of me dipping my hands down where no one can see..” He punctuates this by running his fingers up the side of your panties and dips his long digits past the waistband. You cry out embarrassingly fast and loud when he strums those fingers over your dripping slit. You burn and look away as he chuckles. 

“How could you...could you possibly know that?” You murmur, fighting the intense urge to raise your hips to grab just a little bit more friction from his fingers. You don’t have to wait that long anyway. Because he takes his ring finger and drags it down down down, and back up again. It’s not nearly enough, but it’s something. And he knows it because of the grin you miss as he watches you close your eyes and let your mouth fall open.

“Being the Chosen One has its perks.” He teases and your eyes open again just so you can glare at him. Before you can ask him how he really knows your hips buck and you let out a keening moan when he dips that teasing finger into your slick entrance. You whine and bite your lip hard when he begins to flex it and stroke your sensitive walls. You haven’t been touched by anyone but your own fingers in so long that it’s almost too much and he hasn’t even done much yet. He just keeps rubbing his finger up, down, up, down in such an agonizingly slow manner that you almost want to cry. Whether it’s because it feels so surprisingly good or because it’s just, not enough. 

You open your eyes halfway to look up at him and you involuntarily clench when you see how he’s watching you. Watching the way your body works with his hand to get what it wants. He looks almost...what’s the word? His eyes are so dark, stormy blue like Kimono’s restless surface. And he’s biting his lip and darting his eyes between your lips and your eyes like he’d much rather be biting _your_ lower lip. Ah, that’s what it is. He looks feral. Like he’s enjoying the way you cower and shake under his touch. Like he’s watching his prey give herself up to his will.

It’s enough to drive you over the edge almost embarrassingly fast. Before you can even give him, or even yourself any warning, your bucking up against his hand and arching your back as your cunt quivers and your thighs shake. He lets loose a blush-inducing growl as he works his finger in you, thrusting now and helping you ride that wave. He bites his lip even harder and looks down on you with such a dark look it makes you shudder. 

As you come down from your high, you let your body relax back into the bed and he releases your hands. You watch him, speechless as you try to catch your breath. How in the galaxy did that happen? One minute you were ready to lecture him about how you shouldn’t do what you definitely wanted to do, and the next you were keening and mewling for him while he barley finger-fucked you. He definitely had an unhealthy effect on you and- Oh hell-

Your train of thought completely derails when he pulls his hand from your panties, looks at the absolute mess you’ve left on him, and licks his finger. He slips it past his lush lips and suckles your juices off. All while he watches you with those, definitely feral, blue eyes. He pops his finger out of his mouth and kisses you, tangling his tongue with yours and letting you taste yourself on his tongue. A tangy sweetness that’s so sinful and so wrong that it makes your toes curl. When he pulls back you’re not sure how you’re supposed to function. But he’s already pulling you up to a sitting position and tugging you out of bed with him.

“You’re right, Obi-Wan _is_ going to kill us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point I don't even know if there's gonna be plot. Probably not. Oh well.


End file.
